Through A Glass Darkly
by saragillie
Summary: A series of one-shots written from the perspective of people watching Brennan's and Booth's relationship with each other.
1. A Hard Case

**AN: I hope you enjoy this series. There will be at least four, probably more, one-shots. Thanks, as always, goes to my faithful editor, redrider6612.  
**

Junior agent Joseph Munez, Joe to his friends and family, sat at his desk, staring at the stack of paperwork that still needed to be done. He couldn't believe he'd gotten so behind. It was going to take hours to finish it all.

Glancing at the light coming from a nearby office, he thought, 'At least I'm not here all by myself. It's too quiet when I'm the only one here.'

The occupant of the other office emerged with a small duffel bag tossed over his shoulder.

"Hey, Booth. Headed for the gym?" he asked.

"Uh huh," Booth replied shortly.

'So much for having company,' Joe thought as he turned back to his desk.

He was still hard at work an hour later when the other man returned from his workout clad in casual clothes.

Joe was just about to ask how his day had been when the strains of Hot Blooded started to echo in the empty room.

Booth grabbed his phone and answered, "Hi, Bones."

He paused to listen and then said, "Yeah, I'm still here. I have to finish up a few things."

He walked into his office, but left the door open. Although he had to strain to hear, a moment later Joe heard him say, "Okay. I'll see you soon. You wanna do pie afterwards?"

The junior agent sighed quietly and returned to his slowly dwindling pile of paperwork.

Ten minutes later, Dr. Brennan walked by on her way to Booth's office. They had never been formally introduced, but everyone knew who she was – one half of the best investigative team in the building. What nobody could figure out was the exact nature of the relationship between the two partners. They denied being involved, but their body language told a different story.

As he watched, Booth lifted his head from its slumped position over the desk and greeted her. Joe turned back to his paperwork. They might be interesting to watch, but he really wanted to get out of here.

In Booth's office, Brennan dumped her purse and coat onto one of the chairs and pulled another around the desk until it was next to Booth's chair. She could tell he was exhausted. The case they had solved and were now doing the paperwork for had been hard – a sadistic child killer had gotten three kids between the time they'd identified the first body and when they caught him.

"You ready to do this?" she asked, smiling at him. "If we work together I think we can get it done in an hour or so and then we can get that pie you mentioned." She tried to sound upbeat, but she was as exhausted and frustrated by the case as he was.

It wasn't until he reached across his desk for a pen that she noticed his knuckles. They were raw and red and a few of them were bleeding.

"Taking out your frustration on the punching bag again?" she asked softly.

He looked at her a moment and then answered, "You know, sometimes this job just gets to me. Working homicide isn't easy."

"I know, Booth," she responded in a soothing tone. "Before we were partners, all I saw were the bodies and what I could tell about them from the bones. But now, we meet the people who knew them and that makes it hard to stay detached."

Although the pair weren't speaking loudly, the open door combined with the acoustics of the larger room made it impossible for Joe to ignore their conversation. He gave up trying to work on his paperwork and surreptitiously observed the pair with the "rear view mirror" he had put on his computer monitor. He usually used it so he could see who was walking into his cube, but with a minor adjustment it worked just as well for this purpose. He watched as Dr. Brennan opened a drawer in Booth's desk and pulled out antiseptic ointment and Band-Aids.

Gently she bandaged Booth's knuckles. Then she turned his hands and dropped a single kiss on each palm. He started in surprise, partly because the action was so unexpected and partly because of the fire that raced from his palms through his body.

"Um, Bones?" he said hesitantly.

Almost as surprised as he was, she apologized, "Sorry, Booth. I'm not sure what came over me."

He looked at her for a long minute before opening a folder and buckling down to work.

Now Joe was confused. Before, he had been certain they were involved, but now he wasn't so sure. The surprise on Booth's face was genuine. They were an unusual pair.

Since they were diligently working, he turned his attention back to his own paperwork. He finally managed to concentrate and his stack of work started to diminish more rapidly.

"See you later, Joe," Booth said as he and his partner headed toward the elevators.

Joe glanced at his watch. An hour and a half had passed. He grabbed his jacket and followed them. As the three waited for the elevators, Booth introduced him to Dr. Brennan, who shook his hand politely and asked how he was.

The three rode down the elevator in silence. As they parted ways in the parking lot, Booth said "See you tomorrow, Joe," and Dr. Brennan said "It was nice to meet you." As the partners headed toward their cars, Booth slung his arm around her neck in a friendly fashion and they began to argue about whose car they would take and what flavor of pie to order.

Joe watched in amusement, shaking his head at their antics.

'No wonder nobody can figure them out,' he thought. 'It seems like they're a bit of everything.'

He'd better change his bet in the office pool though; they definitely weren't dating yet. He climbed into his car and headed home for the night, dreading his empty apartment, wishing he had the kind of a partner Booth did.


	2. A Long Day

**AN: Here's a shortie for you. Thanks to redrider6612 and to everyone who reviewed 'A Hard Case.'**

When Dr. Clark Edison walked into the Medico-Legal Lab late that night, he wasn't surprised to find the lights on. No, what surprised him was that Dr. Brennan wasn't on the platform bent over a skeleton.

He glanced at her office. She was sitting at her desk, but Agent Booth partly obscured his view.

The FBI agent's voice was easy to hear in the hallway. "Come on, Bones. Your head is killing you. You need to take some aspirin."

"I'll be fine, Booth."

Clark watched as he opened her desk drawer, grabbed a bottle of pills, shook two out and shoved them toward her.

"I told you I was fine."

He moved his hand forward. She plucked the pills from his hand and swallowed them, then turned back toward her computer.

Clark shook his head at their antics. Everything with those two was drama. They argued about everything and nothing. He turned to go to his workstation, but the continuing drama in the office caught his eye again.

"Nuh uh, Bones." Booth grabbed the arms of her chair and turned it to face him. "Your head still hurts and it will be twenty minutes 'til those aspirin kick in."

He reached for her wrists and tugged gently. She stood and he pulled her in the direction of her couch. Clark had to step back to have an unobstructed view.

Brennan was slumped on the couch, her hands cradling her head. Booth knelt in front of her and moved her arms. Then he began to massage her temples, slowly and rhythmically. Her eyes closed the minute he touched her and after a minute she moaned slightly.

"Sorry, Bones. I didn't mean to hurt you."

In a dreamy voice, she replied, "No, it felt so good, don't stop."

Clark tore his attention from the partners. He really wasn't interested in what they did with their time off, he reminded himself. He moved toward his desk to look for his reading glasses. He found the case on top of the desk and glasses in a drawer. Scolding himself for his carelessness, he headed to his car.

As he passed her office, he couldn't help but take one last glance. Booth was now sitting on the couch with Brennan's head in his lap. She appeared to have fallen asleep while Booth stroked her hair.

'Argh! I've been in this office too long! I'm getting interested in what's happening in my colleagues' personal lives! I'd better leave.'

As he turned to leave, Booth caught his eye and winked. Clark bolted. If he wasn't careful, in the near future he'd be making out with his romantic partner somewhere in the Jeffersonian.


	3. A Little Pie

**AN: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. Here's your next installment. I am planning to post another one tomorrow, which is the last one that I currently have written. There may be more after that, we'll have to see.**

At the chime, Sally looked up to see her favorite couple entering the diner. They came in at strange hours of the day or night and they were bickering, but then these two were always bickering. Well, almost always.

Tonya timidly approached the pair. She offered them each a menu. "Would you like to start with something to drink?"

They paused their argument and the man said, "We'll take our usual." Then he turned back to the argument.

"You have a usual?" Tonya asked hesitantly.

"Just tell Sally, she'll know."

As she moved away, the bickering began again.

"Sally, they said you'd know what their 'usual' was."

Sally took pity on the new waitress; it was only her second day. "Yep. They're in here several times a week. His name is Booth, and he calls her Bones." She listened to the sound of their voices. "When she's snippy with him, they've come for dinner. Otherwise, it's coffee and pie."

"Are they always like that?" Tonya asked.

"Pretty much. Sometimes their friends come in with them. Then they don't argue as much. Watch the next time someone is with them. It's like those two are the nucleus of an atom and the others are the electrons." Sally laughed. "Listen to me, babbling on about nothing. I guess that's what I get for helping my son with his science homework! He'll have a Coke and she drinks iced tea. I'll have their food ready in a few minutes."

As she cooked, she kept an eye on the bickering pair. Booth leaned across the table, making his point both physically and with words. Bones sat in her chair arms folded across her chest, clearly unimpressed. When he was done, she started speaking, slowly leaning closer and closer to him. He gradually shifted further back in his chair until he was sitting all the way back.

She assembled the burger on a plate and added the fries. Going to a back counter, she washed her hands and prepared a large salad.

"The salad is for her and the burger for him," she told Tonya.

Tonya glanced at the plates. "Can he really eat all that?"

Sally smiled. "Just watch."

Tonya set the plates on the table in front of the pair. "The Royal Salad for you ma'am. And a burger with extra fries."

The diner only had two other patrons, so Tonya wiped down the chairs, the worst chore. As she cleaned, she kept an eye on them.

Their arguing stopped when they started to eat. But then the entertainment began. The woman snitched a fry when his attention was on his burger. She did it several times.

"Bones, stop stealing my fries," he said, swatting at her hand. "If you want fries, order your own."

Her hand snaked across the table again, this time swiping some ketchup with the fry. "But Booth, yours always taste better than mine."

"You just like stealing my fries!"

As they ate, they continued to bicker about the fries, but he never really stopped her from eating them. By the time the plates were empty, they were both leaning over the table towards each other, heads only a few inches apart.

"What can I get for you for dessert?" Tonya asked as she cleared the plates.

"The usual," they chorused.

"They'll both have coffee and one piece of today's pie. Two forks." Sally always sent two forks. Booth always tried to get her to eat pie, and she subtly helped with his campaign.

"Two coffees and a slice of pie," Tonya announced. She set the cups on the table and poured the coffee.

"Bones, you have to try the pie. I'm telling you, the diner makes the best pie!"

Tonya set the pie down between them.

Booth grabbed a fork and took a bite without really looking at it.

"Booth, you know I don't like my fruit cooked."

As the flavor of chocolate exploded in his mouth, he glanced down at the pie in surprise. The diner always served fruit pies, but for some reason today they were serving French Silk.

He grabbed the second fork. "Bones, you have to try this pie. No fruit involved."

She looked at the piece on the fork and then opened her mouth. He carefully moved the fork into her mouth and she closed her teeth around it. She moaned as she swallowed.

"That was amazing." She pulled the plate toward her and grabbed the fork from his hand.

He stared at her, stunned.

By now, both Tonya and Sally had given up pretending to work to watch them.

He reached his fork across the table, but she swatted it away. "This is my pie."

He laughed and called, "Can I get some apple pie, please?" He turned back to his partner with a smug smile. "So, Bones, now do you believe me?"

"This is amazing," she mumbled through a bite. She swallowed. "You're right, the diner makes amazing pie."

The second piece of pie appeared and he took a large bite. "So, how about a bite of apple?"

She rolled her eyes at him in a 'don't push your luck' look.

"Come on, just one bite. If you don't like it, I promise I'll never bug you about it again."

He was giving her puppy dog eyes.

"Fine, just one bite." She took a piece, chewed it slowly and swallowed.

"For baked fruit, that was pretty good."

He leaned over the table until his forehead touched hers. "I wanted you to try it because I didn't want you to miss out on one of the good things in life."

"Well, maybe I should listen to you more often."

He smiled.

Sally had to strain to hear her next words.

"Is Sweets right? Is you trying to get me to eat pie a metaphor for seduction? Because if it is…"

He drained his coffee and tossed a few bills on the table. "Sweets is like, twelve, Bones."

They stood up and he slung his arm around her shoulder. "It means whatever we want it to mean, Bones."

Then the door closed behind them and the atmosphere of the diner when from electric back to normal.

"None of the staff can decide if they're together or not," Sally answered Tonya's unspoken question. "But they're never boring."


	4. A Serious Argument

**AN: Here's the last one that I have written. Thanks for all the reviews and adding my story to alerts. I'm intending to write more, but I probably won't have anything ready in the next week. Thanks as usual to redrider6612 for betaing for me.**

FBI Agent Jim Porter checked his equipment, thinking about the upcoming mission. The suspect and a couple of his cronies were holed up in an abandoned warehouse. According to their intel, piles of boxes were scattered around the main room. A row of offices lined the wall opposite their point of entry.

He was not looking forward to this, even though a whole FBI SWAT team was going in. The room had too many places for their targets to hide. They'd be extremely lucky if they got out with any major injuries.

As he turned to make sure his partner was ready, the team leader, Seeley Booth, caught his eye. He was arguing with his partner. Booth was solid, but his Dr. Brennan was a loose cannon.

Although he was too far away to hear what they were saying, he could tell the two were arguing passionately about something. Given the defeated set of his shoulders as he walked to the back of his SUV, he must have lost the argument.

He was giving her a bulletproof vest? Booth couldn't seriously be bringing his scientist partner on a SWAT raid! She'd either be killed or get one of the team killed. Jim's suspicions were confirmed when Booth pulled his backup piece from his ankle holster and offered it to her. Thank God he hadn't given her an earpiece.

"Gather round everybody," Booth called. When the team had circled up, he said, "Everybody clear on the plan?"

Jim nodded along with the rest of them.

"Alright, then. Head out!"

"But, sir…" Jim frowned at the newest member of the team. The way Smith was eyeing Dr. Brennan, it was clear he was going to do something stupid. Nobody messed with Booth.

Sure enough, Booth silenced Smith with a hard glare. "You understand the plan, Smith, and what you're supposed to be doing?"

Smith nodded slowly.

"Then do your job! The time for raising objections is during the planning."

Booth glanced at the group. "Head out! Maintain radio silence as long as possible."

With a few hand signals, he directed my partner and me to the left side of our point of entry and another team to the right.

Carefully the team infiltrated the warehouse. The two-man teams hop scotched around each other; the team in the lead securing the next area.

Ten minutes later, deep in the warehouse, shots rang out. Seconds later, Booth's voice came over the radio, "Porter, you're in charge. Shots came from 4 o'clock. I think I got one of them."

Jim looked over to see Booth prone atop his partner, protecting her. "Delta, circle in from the left, echo, the right. Everyone else hold position."

Five minutes later, the targets were in custody and several of the guys were having superficial wounds treated by EMTs, Booth included. The EMT was trying to put a bandage on his wound, but the man was too busy arguing with his partner to notice.

He loomed over her, his shoulders rigid, his voice raised. "Bones, I told you to stay behind me. What part of 'stay behind me' didn't you understand?!? I never should have allowed you to come and I'm certainly never taking you again. You put everybody in danger and you revealed our location to the targets!"

The EMT swooped in and placed a bandage against Booth's shoulder.

"Booth, I was doing what everyone else was doing!"

"They were following orders. Theirs were different than yours. You promised, Bones. You promised!"

By now, everyone was watching the drama.

"I don't know why you're so upset. We caught the guys and nobody is seriously hurt."

"I'm upset because you were shot at! Regardless of the outcome, you put everyone at risk by your recklessness. Part of working with a team is doing your part of the job."

Jim caught a hint of fear mixed in with Booth's anger and frustration.

"I work just fine with my team. Besides, you didn't have a regular partner for two years before you started working with me. What does that say about your ability to work as part of a team?"

Jim winced. She didn't pull any punches. How could Booth work with her?

"Former Army Ranger here. Snipers work in teams of two. And when I first joined the FBI, before I became a special agent, I worked SWAT. As for your team, you work well together because you have different skills and need each other to complete your tasks. It's not the same thing at all. You can't take orders or follow a plan! Not even something as simple as stay behind me!"

By this time, there was only two inches between their bodies and he was yelling right at her face.

"But Booth…"

"No buts, Bones. Into the car. Now."

As she stomped away, Booth stood still long enough for the EMT to finish taping the bandage on the graze he sustained while protecting his partner.

"Show's over people. I need your written reports by noon tomorrow." Then he climbed into the SUV.

Smith's nervous laughing broke the tension. "Can you believe her? If he'd yelled at me like that, I'd… well I don't know what."

"You'd go home and cry to your mommy!"

"He was right and all she did was argue back!"

"I wish I could be a fly on the wall in Cullen's office tomorrow when he turns in the report."

"I think he's got bigger problems than Cullen," Jim commented thoughtfully. "Did you see the way she was looking at him? She's probably yelling at him right now. I wonder if he knows he's in love with her."

His teammates responded, but he was too busy thinking about the careful way Booth had protected Brennan in the warehouse. The second the shooting started, he'd tackled her, taking them both to the floor. He'd rested his elbows on either side of her head and gotten off three shots immediately and she hadn't even flinched or fought him. Maybe Booth wasn't the only one in love.


	5. A Jealous Colleague

**Note: Here's a shortie for you. Sorry it took so long. At the moment, I don't have any more of this series written so it might be a while.**

Dr. Ralph Masterson, veteran Egyptologist, entered the office of his coworker.

"Carter? Do you have a minute?"

"Huh?"

"I asked if you had a minute."

When Carter didn't respond, Ralph followed his colleague's gaze. He spotted Dr. Brennan and her partner walking down the hall and understood the other man's distraction. Carter had only been with the Jeffersonian a few months and had invited Dr. Brennan on a date the first time he met her. She'd only gone out with Carter twice.

"You have to let it go, Carter." Ralph worked hard to keep the pity from his tone. "She hasn't looked your way in two months."

"We have so much in common and our dinner conversations were fascinating. What does he have that I don't have? I'm certainly smarter than he is."

Ralph wanted to reply "a gun and a cocky attitude." The man oozed charisma. The feelings between them were obvious, although they always behaved professionally. He too wondered what she saw in the FBI agent. But as he was happily married and soon to retire, his interest was pure curiosity. If what he'd heard was true, the Medico-Legal lab was the most exciting department to work in. "He shows her the world in a way an academic never could."

Carter sighed, his eyes on the door where the couple had disappeared.

Although he felt for the man, Ralph had reached the end of his patience. "If we could get to work, please…"


	6. An Observant Bartender

**AN: Here's the next installment. It's a bit smuttier than the others have been. I have ideas for a couple more one-shots, but nothing written. Thanks to redrider6612 for keeping all my verbs in the same tense and for helping me work out a difficult description. Enjoy.**

From behind the bar, Richard looked up when the door chimes jingled. He immediately recognized the couple that walked in. They came in about once a week.

The tall, powerfully built man walked with a swagger. His hand rested at the small of the back of the auburn-haired beauty. The man guided her to a stool at the bar, hooking one with his foot and pulling it closer to hers.

Usually when they came in, they argued in a friendly fashion, drank a beer or two, and then left. Tonight, he ordered scotch and she a seven and seven with a twist. While they waited silently, he rested his elbows on the table and slumped over, and she seemed to fold in on herself. They knocked their drinks back immediately and asked for another. They nursed their second round, occasionally glancing at each other.

Richard kept an eye on them in the mirror as he served the Founding Father's other customers. He'd been a bartender for long enough to see trouble coming, and he was pretty sure he'd be pouring those two into a taxi before the night was over. Anybody with half a brain could tell they were trying to drown their bad day in an alcohol buzz.

"Can I get a Guinness please?" The soft tones of a female voice interrupted his musings.

"Sure, ma'am." He grabbed a glass from under the counter and put it under the tap. He glanced at the bubble mirror that gave him a complete view of the bar as he filled the glass.

Hearing a loud thump behind him, Richard set the glass down and spun around. The auburn-woman was standing over a mousy man lying flat on his back.

"Bones? What happened? Why'd you do that?" her companion demanded.

"He touched me up, Booth! He deserved it."

Just as Richard wondered exactly what that meant, the man, Booth, answered his question. "I think you mean he felt you up. You want me to arrest him or toss him out of here?"

Settling back onto her stool, she glanced at the prostrate man. "Nah. I think he's learned his lesson about groping strangers."

"Bartender, another round."

As Richard brought them fresh drinks, he heard Booth ask, "What did he do to you?"

"When he first bumped into me, I thought he was suffering from the large motor impairment that often accompanies inebriation. But then he squeezed my butt."

"In public?" The man's outrage was clear.

'This is a conversation I have to hear,' thought Richard. He glanced around the bar. Everything was relatively calm. He reached for a towel and began drying glasses, within hearing distance, of course.

"It's not that big of a deal, Booth." She took a swig of her drink.

He followed her example. "You'd let someone grope you in public?"

"Not grope, per se. But if it was the right man or the right situation…" From the corner of his eye, Richard noticed that she looked Booth straight in the eye as she spoke. Although a casual shrug accompanied her words, it was clear she was challenging him.

Richard finished last glass and began to wash the counter at the far end, watching them in the mirror.

Taking the challenge, Booth rested his hand on the small of her back and then let it slide down to her waist. He played with the hem of her shirt, keeping his eyes on her, as if asking for permission. He slid his arm around her waist.

Richard slowed his washing as he neared them. He didn't want to miss anything.

"How far would you let someone go?" Booth asked her quietly enough that Richard had to strain to hear.

"That depends on a variety of factors."

"Only you would have a formula for something like this!"

She quirked a smile at him. "Why don't you just try and find out?"

Booth looked stunned.

Loud music started playing. Someone must have put a quarter in the jukebox. _Hotblooded_ by Foreigner.

"Dance with me, Bones."

She looked like she might object, but he pulled her off the stool and into an empty space between a few tables. Even though it was an upbeat song, he pulled her into a slow dance, looping his arms around her waist.

Richard gave up the pretense of work and watched avidly. Bones rested her head on Booth's shoulder. Slowly the man's hands drifted lower until they were in the back pockets of her jeans. A moment later he pulled her close, pressing her against his body. She pulled his head down and whispered something in his ear. She arched her back and he chased her lips for a moment before catching them with his own. Booth jerked back, apparently surprised when she returned his kiss open mouthed.

Bones smirked, dropping one arm to his waist and tightening her hold on him. His lips fell to hers again and this time he didn't hold back. He kissed her long and deeply, and she responded eagerly. Just before it turned into a full-on makeout session, they stumbled down the hall toward the bathrooms.

Richard looked around the bar and realized that he wasn't the only one watching. A moment later, conversations started up again. While he served his customers, he decided it was a good thing that the bar had two unisex locking bathrooms.

Twenty minutes later they returned. He was trying too hard to look casual, but she was cool without a hair out of place. The tension between them had been replaced by an intimate vibe.

Richard smirked at Bones as he brought the two beers she ordered and she smirked right back.

"Temperance, what was that?" Booth asked.

"Hm… that was a little bit about me satisfying my biological urges. No don't interrupt. I'm not done. But mostly about me giving you the opportunity to step over that line of yours."

"Opportunity?" He laughed. "That was more like you pulling me over the line! What happens now?"

"Now, you finish your beer and then take me home and show me what breaking the laws of physics is like."

Booth immediately drained his beer in one long swallow and snagged her arm to drag her out of the bar. As Richard watched them go, he wondered exactly what she meant by breaking the law of physics. Whatever it meant, it must have something to do with sex.

They'd been in often enough that he knew they were friends and work partners. Well, actually, he knew that from their friend Angela, who loved to talk. He briefly entertained the thought of calling her and telling her what happened (like she'd asked him to do), but decided against it. Bartenders, like psychologists, should keep people's secrets.


	7. An Amused Director

**AN: Thanks to labrat21 for reminding I was intending on doing from from Cullen's perspective (which you probably guessed from the title). As always thanks to redrider6612 for keeping on the straight and narrow of succinct instead of wordy. Next up will be Brennan's neighbor. I'm open for suggestions on whose perspective to write, but right now I'm not interested in writing one from one of the main character's.**

"Bones, you can't say things like that to him!" Booth hissed quietly and angrily. "He's my boss. Are you trying to get me fired?"

"Booth, be reasonable. He's making the wrong decision. There's nothing wrong with disagreeing with him."

In less than a second, Booth was out of his chair and leaning threateningly over her. "It's not what you said, it's how you said it!"

"I am not one of your suspects and you don't intimidate me."

Deputy Director Sam Cullen stared at the pair in front of him. He wasn't sure whether he should be angry or amused. If the two of them arguing in a children's ward was ironic, he wasn't sure this would be – irony on steroids or just plain craziness?

The tension in the office suddenly shifted. Before it had been the tension of a fight brewing and two contestants preparing to duke it out. Now it was sexually charged – fraught with deep breaths and fighting attraction. He might not be a field agent anymore, but he could still read the signs and these two wanted each other badly.

He cleared his throat loudly. "Maybe we could get back on the subject before you two do something that I don't want to know about, and in my OWN office to boot?"

Booth jumped guitily then he slipped back into his chair.

Hiding a smirk, Cullen said, "What you do on your own time is your own business, but I'd hate to have to…"

"Sorry, sir!" Booth apologized sheepishly.

He listened patiently while Booth reframed and rephrased his partner's reasons why he should reconsider his decision.

"I'll keep that in mind, but there's a limit to what I can do. Now get out of my office."

Booth smirked at Brennan. "See, it's not what you say, it's how you say it."

She looked back at him with a murderous expression.

"Please wait to do… whatever… you're going to do to or with him until you're both far away from here. If I don't know about it, I can't be held responsible." He smirked at their puzzled expressions. "Scram."

Their arguing voices diminished as they walked down the hall. He sighed. The entertainment for the day was over; now on to the boring parts. Oh, to be a fly on the wall of wherever they ended up next. He might not want to know for legal reasons, but those two were just too interesting for him not to be a little bit curious.


	8. A Nosy Neighbor

**AN: Here's the next one. Thanks to labrat21 for the suggestion and to redrider6612 for keeping me in character on this one. Enjoy.**

Nadine tightened her grip on the heavy sack, her hands shaking from the effort. She didn't want to drop it and get trash all over the hallway carpet. Getting old wasn't fun, she decided, as her hip twinged, but she was grateful that she was still self-sufficient.

As she walked, she wondered if Mrs. Guterman had finally kicked out her good-for-nothing son and when the management was going to do something about the college students upstairs who threw loud parties every Saturday.

The elevator door opened, and her neighbor and her… well, she wasn't sure what he was … exited.

"Hi, Mrs. Castleman," her neighbor said.

He handed the bag he was carrying to the young woman with a significant look. She sighed as she took it. "Fine, Booth. Go be a gentleman."

The young man turned to Nadine. "May I get that for you, ma'am?"

Oh, he had such a charming smile. She let him take the bag. "Thank you."

He offered her an arm and they walked down the hall together.

"How are you this evening?" he asked politely.

"I'm well. You?"

"It was a long day."

"So how do you two know each other?"

"We're work partners."

He tossed the bag in the chute. "May I see you to your door?"

"I'd be honored." She smiled up at him. She hadn't flirted this much in years.

He made polite conversation about the weather until they reached her door. As the door closed behind her, she felt like cursing. She'd only been able to ask him that one question and his answer had only piqued her curiosity further. Ear to the door, she listened to his footfalls retreating down the hallway. Finally she heard the snick of the door closing.

The next second, she opened her door and looked up and down the hall. Empty. She hurried down to her neighbors door and pressed her ear to the panel.

Nadine heard a loud groan. Not the kind of groan that she made when she'd hurt herself, but the kind when her Henry... ah, how she missed him.

Were they having sex? If so, he was her lover. What was her name again? Something Brennan.

After a few moments of silence, she heard the soft swish of fabric brushing against something.

"You want some more?" Brennan asked.

More silence. Then he moaned.

They were having sex! She wasn't so old she'd forgotten what that sounded like. Wasn't the Brennan lady some kind of celebrity author? Oh, Nettie wasn't going to believe this!

The man, Booth, had to be more than her work partner, no matter what he said. She saw the way he looked at Ms. Brennan. If she could figure out exactly what their relationship was, her day would be complete.

Voices interrupted her wild thoughts. "We are never going back to the old Thai place again. This food is to die for."

"Hm… only you could think that food was "to die for." I'd rather eat it. That was so good. Almost orgasmic."

"Bones!"

"Booth, you seriously need to get over your embarrassment about sex talk. Besides, we're alone in my apartment. Who's going to hear? I'm telling you, the food was more satisfying than some sex I've had."

"I did not want to know that! Wha'd'ya say we start on our paperwork?"

At the sound of the elevator doors opening, Nadine straightened and walked casually back down the hall, her mind whirling. Were they lovers or not?


	9. A New Mattress

**AN: I know it's been a while since I updated this, but don't worry, I haven't abandoned it. I was just having trouble taking good ideas and getting them onto paper. The idea for this one-shot (bed shopping) was suggested by labrat21 back in September. I immediately thought it was a good idea, but I had a hard time "seeing" the scene in my head, so I let it sit. Several weeks ago this popped into my head and now here it is. Thanks to labrat21 for the idea and to redrider6612 who edited it for me. Thanks to everybody who's reviewed. I hope you enjoy this.**

Paul rubbed his temples, willing the ibuprofen tablets he'd swallowed to take effect. His head pounded and the soft jazz coming from the store's speakers grated on his nerves.

He looked at the mattresses on display and wished for the hundredth time that he could just lay down for a quick nap.

The door chimed as a couple entered. His hand rode her back and she was turned toward him. The chemistry between them was so strong he wondered if it was possible to be singed by simple proximity.

"Bones, I don't know why we had to take the morning off work to do this."

He called her "Bones"? What a horrible nickname. At least he hoped it was a nickname.

"Booth, I've already told you. You need a new mattress. Your current one does not support your back properly."

"Yeah, but on a work day?"

"I'm not fixing your back again tomorrow. You're getting a new mattress today. Besides, you don't want to spend your weekend with Parker mattress shopping, do you?"

Paul approached, hoping that they weren't going to spontaneously combust in the store either from their argument or their chemistry. His head ached. Why couldn't they be a nice older replacing their mattress after 30 years of marriage?

"Hi! Welcome to the Mattress Emporium. I'm Paul."

'Bones' said, "For now, he's just going to look around. I'll let you know if he needs anything."

Paul nodded, relieved. That would give the pain reliever time to take the edge off his headache.

"Bones, it's rude to talk about me as if I'm not here," the man protested.

"Once we find a mattress that seems to be good, you need to test it for a minimum of 15 minutes."

The first few mattresses Booth tried, he got off right away.

He sank down into another. "This one is nice, Bones."

"No. Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"It sinks under your weight. It will not provide you proper lumbar support."

"But it feels good."

"Am I or am I not the bone expert and trained in kinesiology?"

He pouted as he got up and continued to the next mattress.

The pair worked their way systematically through the store. As Paul's headache abated, the couple became more and more entertaining. Her reasons a mattress was wrong were practically incomprehensible, but Booth seemed to understand what he meant.

He took one look at the next mattress and shook his head. "There's no way I'm trying that one!"

"What's wrong with it?"

"Look at it! There's no way I can sleep on a purple mattress with unicorns on it."

"How it looks is irrelevant. With sheets on it, you'd never notice."

"No, that mattress is for six-year-old girls." He moved onto the next mattress.

They tried three quarters of the mattresses in the store before they found one that they both agreed on.

Bones looked at her watch. "It's 11:37. At 11:52, you can tell me how it feels."

He squirmed on the mattress. "Bones, this one is fine. Why do I have to wait fifteen minutes?"

"Because Consumer Reports says that's how long it takes your body to actually determine if a mattress is comfortable or not. Just try to get comfortable. Lay on it like you're going to take a nap."

He made a genuine effort. "Bones, I'm not sleepy in the least. Let's talk about something."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know. You come up with a topic."

"Okay." She thought for a minute. "How was your last date?"

Paul's ears perked up. They acted like they were married. Why was she asking him about a date?

"Anything but my dating life."

"Um. I read an online article yesterday about the use of hormones in raising beef and chicken. A Dr. Thomas from University of Ohio is about to publish a longitudinal study of its effects on children. The article speculates that…"

"If you're about to tell me that it affects the male reproductive system in any way I don't want to hear it!"

What kind of people talked about scientific studies in a mattress store? Paul wondered. This not-couple was really strange.

"Why not? I'd think you'd be concerned about the impact it might have on Parker. You should really go organic Booth. Gene modified foods are likely just as problematic."

"Okay, we are _not_ talking about my eating habits. Next you'll be telling me I should trade my burgers for tofu." He snaked out an arm and pulled her onto the bed next to him.

"Booth! What are you doing?"

He turned onto his side facing her, an arm supporting his head. "If I have to test the mattress, you can test it too."

She mirrored his pose. "That makes no sense. I am not going to be sleeping on it."

His eyes sparkled. "Who knows? Maybe you'll fall asleep at my place sometime. I would, of course, be a gentleman and give you the bed."

"In that case, you need to replace your couch," Bones informed him. "It's worse for your back than your current mattress. I don't have back problems, so the couch would be fine for me."

He rolled his eyes. She looked down at the mattress label and then started to laugh.

He glanced at it and frowned. "Absolutely not!"

"You have to admit that it's a little funny, Booth." She glanced at her watch. "Oh, look, it's 12:03. How did that one feel?"

"It was alright," he said grudgingly.

Paul approached them as they got off the mattress. At least they hadn't started making out while they waited. Those couples were the worst. "So, this mattress seemed to be the right one?"

The woman giggled and the man frowned. "Do you have any others similar to this one, preferably a different brand?"

Paul thought for a moment. "This isn't a very popular model. I believe the manufacturer is discontinuing it. The closest would be this one."

He led them to another mattress, but Bones shook her head the moment Booth was stretched out on it.

"It has to be the other one."

"No, Bones?"

What was he whining about? It was a perfectly good mattress by Sealy.

She nodded decisively. "He'll take one like that in a king size."

As Paul went to ring up the purchase, he tried to figure them out. Where they a couple or not? They argued and touched in a way that demonstrated they were completely at ease with each other. And he let her bully him into a mattress he didn't seem to want even though it was comfortable for him. What was wrong with the mattress?

"That will be $765.42 with tax. How will you be paying today? Check, credit card?" Paul asked. "I can have it delivered today at no extra charge. They'll haul away the old mattress for $25."

The man reached for his wallet reluctantly.

"I can get if you like Booth," she smiled sweetly. He whipped out his card and tossed it on the counter, trying to be casual.

When he handed it back with the signed receipt, Paul looked at the name on the card "Seeley Booth." He suppressed a smirk and compared the signature on the back to the back of the card. No wonder the man didn't want to buy a Sealy

Paul consulted the schedule. "Does between 2 and 4 work for you?"

"That doesn't give us much time for lunch!"

"Booth, it's fine. We never take that long to eat."

"I know, but I have the day off. I wanted to enjoy some of it."

"We can have a nice dinner."

"Okay, fine. Between 2 and 4."

Then they walked out bickering about where to eat lunch.

Paul laughed. Seeley sleeping on a Sealy. This day was turning out to be pretty good. Wait until he told his wife about this. And his headache was finally gone.

He smiled at the next customer that walked through the door. "Welcome to the Mattress Emporium. I'm Paul. How can I help you today?"


End file.
